After the Quell
by SkyLark89
Summary: Katniss and Peeta are both rescued by the rebels at the end of the Quarter Quell, resulting in various changes in their story. Begins with alternate "Catching Fire" ending.
1. Enemy

**Title:** "After the Quell"  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Katniss and Peeta are both rescued by the rebels at the end of the Quarter Quell, resulting in various changes in their story. Begins with alternate _Catching Fire_ ending, then set during _Mockingjay_.  
><strong>Pairings:<strong> Katniss x Peeta, Finnick x Annie, Gale x Johanna (mentioned)  
><strong>Rating: <strong>T  
><strong>Length: <strong>Four parts, approx. 20,000 words  
><strong>AN: **This is my take on what could have happened if Peeta, rather than Finnick, had been rescued by the rebels along with Katniss and Beetee. Contains K/P fluff.  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I do not own _The Hunger Games_.

* * *

><p>A second cannon fires. Brutus, Chaff, Johanna…two of them are dead already.<p>

"Katniss!" Peeta shouts again and this time his voice is startlingly close. I forget all about trying to shoot Enobaria and causing Finnick to duck for cover and get electrocuted when the lightning strikes the tree. I lower my bow and twist my upper body around, to face the direction from which Peeta's voice came. I never should have allowed us to be separated, that was a huge mistake. We're both so incredibly vulnerable now that the alliance with Johanna and Finnick is obviously over. I have to reach Peeta but I feel sick from loss of blood. Johanna must have cut very deep. I can't even find the strength to stand up.

"Peeta!" I call out, as loud as I can. I hear the crashing sound of footsteps coming rapidly toward me. For a moment I think it couldn't possibly be Peeta, that he can't move that fast on his prosthetic leg, but then I see him. Frantic and wide-eyed, he's emerged from some nearby trees. The burst of effort that allows him to rush quickly to my side seems to cause him to lose his balance and almost immediately he's crashed down on the ground beside me. He must to be wounded too, because he's wincing in pain, but he manages to sit up.

"Katniss," Peeta says, pulling me into his arms. I feel myself slump against him and that horrible sinking feeling in my stomach starts to dissipate. _He's here, he's really here_. Peeta pulls away to look at my face and starts at the sight of me. "What happened?" he asks, then looks down, probably having felt blood leak out of my makeshift bandage and onto some part of him. He grabs my arm and holds tightly, in an attempt to slow the bleeding.

"It was Johanna," I say quietly, conscious of the fact that there are still three people out there who are trying to kills us. "She cut me and then ran off. Do you know who either of the cannons were for?"

"Brutus is dead," Peeta tells me, with a glance in the direction he came from. That's a relief. After Finnick, I would have said that Brutus was the most dangerous opponent left. Though Johanna is clearly not to be overlooked. She's nearly killed me already.

I look down at my arm. Peeta's attempt to stop the blood flow seems to be helping, but a tight grip can only do so much for a wound this deep. I need stitches. I've already bled a lot and can feel that I don't have much time before I lose consciousness. I fleetingly think that I was right all along in my weariness over making an ally of Johanna. She turned out to be a very dangerous enemy.

_Enemy. _The word brings back Haymitch's last bit of advice to me: _"Katniss, when you're in the arena…just remember who the enemy is."_ The enemy…the _real_ enemy. I know who the enemy is and it's not Johanna, or any of the other remaining tributes. Looking down, I see Beetee's knife and am able to put the pieces together in my head. I know what he was trying to do. What he would have done, if he was still conscious.

With all the strength I have left, I take hold of Beetee's wire and wrap it around one of my arrows. I pull away from Peeta, force myself up onto my wobbly legs and look up at the forcefield.

"What are you doing?" Peeta whispers.

I shake my head in response, because I don't have time to explain it to him and I'm not even sure of what's going to happen myself. I hitch the arrow into place and aim for the flaw, the chink in the armor, then let the arrow soar. It vanishes, out of the arena and into the real world beyond. Moments later, the lightning hits the tree and a bright flash runs along the wire. My legs give out on me and I fall back down, my tail bone painfully making contact with the ground. Peeta's arms are around me again and together we watch as the dome that is the arena bursts into a blazing blue light. We're thrown down, flattened to the ground. Before the explosions begin, my eyes lock onto Peeta's, which are wide and seem to glitter.

I feel so exhausted and my vision is blurring. I'm only vaguely aware as the earth explodes around us and the trees burst into flames. Peeta's holding onto my forearm again and he rolls over me to shield me from the matter that rains down.

Suddenly, there's an aircraft above us and a claw dropping down. I don't think I've ever seen two people picked up at once in this way, but the claw opens and closes around Peeta and I both, perfectly accommodating. At the thought of what they're going to do to us, I feel numb with terror. When Plutarch Heavensbee's face enters my continually darkening field of vision, my worst fears are confirmed. He and I will surely share the blame for the mess I've made of his pretty arena and I know he'll see to it that I am amply punished.

I look back over at Peeta, who has me in a vice grip, and then my eyes fall shut.

* * *

><p>When I regain consciousness, I'm aware of a hard surface below me. I'm on a thin mattress in a poorly lit room. I sit up, pulling wires off of me, and see Beetee on another table, unconscious. Memories come back to me disjointedly. Being separated from Peeta and then attacked by Johanna. Finding Peeta, shooting an arrow and then what? What did I do? Is it possible…could I really have destroyed the clock arena?<p>

I climb out of my bed. Each footfall feels heavy and sobering as I make my way out of the room and into a hallway. Where is Peeta? What are they doing to him? I know that I've failed him again. I know that, at this very moment, something unspeakably horrible is being done to him because of me. All because of me and those berries. A small handful of poison that I've been carrying around for the past year while it slowly seeps into me and those I love. I'm suddenly aware of voices. Someone's talking about communications being down in several of the Districts. I follow the voice to a nearby door and push it open without hesitating, and without worrying about what I'll find beyond it.

I can hardly believe my eyes. Haymitch, Plutarch and a very beat-up Peeta sit around a table full of untouched food. I can see daylight flooding in through a window and in the distance are the tops of trees. We are flying, but where to?

"There she is. Feeling better, sweetheart?" says Haymitch. His mocking tone of voice confirms what I hadn't even dared to hope. We're not being held by the Capitol. We're safe, for the moment at least. Plutarch must be on our side, somehow.

All eyes are on me as I stagger forward and take a seat at the table next to Peeta. He has a bandage around his good leg and it's propped up on a spare chair. I feel his hand take mine and can hardly believe that he's here, that we're both here. Haymitch says something else, but I barely hear him. I can only stare at Peeta's bruised and tired face. There's so much to say but I can't find the words. He's just as speechless as I am.

Looking into his eyes again, I find myself thinking of that delicious feeling of happiness. After our night of kissing on the beach, I woke up feeling like I've never felt before and knowing it was because of Peeta. The rational, logical part of my mind was quick to squelch the feeling but I remember it well. At the time, I was expecting that I would be dead by the end of the day, if I was lucky and able to carry out my plan to get Peeta crowned as victor. But somehow, we're both alive; we both got out of the arena _again_. And now a question is nagging at me, and I seem to be incapable of pushing it out of my mind. I can't help wondering what might happen between Peeta and I if we could somehow…I don't know. I don't even know what to hope for.

Peeta's mouth curves up into a smile and I quickly avert my eyes, hoping he can't tell what I'm thinking about. I'm sure that night, and the subsequent morning, didn't feel any different to him. There's no reason to let him know what I'm thinking, especially when so much is still up in the air. That irrepressible feeling of duty returns to me, reminding me that there is so much else to think about besides Peeta. There are always more important things to think about. I turn to look at Haymitch and Plutarch.

"What happened?" I ask.

Plutarch places a bowl of broth and some bread in front of me, telling me to eat. Then he returns to his seat and together he and Haymitch explain everything. There's so much to say, so many things I don't know, and I have to struggle to take it all in. There was a plot all along to keep me and Peeta alive in the arena. Many tributes in the Quell had varying degrees of knowledge on the matter. They agreed to keep me alive for the sake of the rebellion. The rebellion is real and while I live, it lives. I am the Mockingjay, symbol of the rebellion. We're on our way to District Thirteen, which was _not_ completely destroyed in the Dark Days. At times, Peeta joins in on the explanation, clearly already having been enlightened about the whole situation.

The food sent from sponsors was a code telling when to destroy the arena. Beetee was planning the stunt with the wire from the first. It's all so incredible. I can hardly believe it when I'm told that Johanna only attacked me so that she could cut the tracker out of my arm, and then she deliberately lead Brutus and Enobaria away from me. She and Finnick did so much for Peeta and I. It's only because of them that we're here. We owe them everything.

"Where are Finnick and Johanna?" I ask.

"They were picked up by the Capitol, along with Enobaria," says Haymitch.

I feel a rush of anger. How could that have happened? How could Haymitch and Plutarch have let that happen, when we have them to thank for so much? I start to feel weak again and lightheaded at the thought of what must be happening to them. They were both in on the rebels' plan and I shudder to think of what will become of them now. I remember Johanna's sarcastic remark about not wanting to incite rebellion, spoken while we were in the arena. I can almost hear her voice: _"Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn't want anything like that!"_

"I -" I start to speak but suddenly it's as if the tiny amount of strength that carried me into this room has completely evaporated. I slump back in my chair, seeing stars. Plutarch helps me back to the room where I woke up and into my bed.

"Will he be all right?" I ask, glancing at Beetee.

"Sure," Plutarch says in a placating tone. Before I can protest, he's stabbed a needle into my arm and I start to feel very drowsy. I should not have gotten up so soon. After this I'm kept in a half-sleeping, half-waking world in which I only have strength enough to eat. I don't know how much time passes like this.

People come to visit me but I don't listen to their words, I only make noises of discomfort until more painkiller comes and knocks me out again. Peeta is the only one who seems to understand that I don't want to be talked at. When he sits at my bedside, he just looks at me and holds my hand in his. He's the only one I like seeing and staying awake for. I'm so glad I didn't fail him in the arena. I'm so glad he's here.

It might be my imagination, or a result of the drugs, but I feel like there's something different about Peeta. He's wounded of course, but still seems more subdued than I would expect him to be over something like that. His broken leg is nothing compared to what we went through during the Hunger Games last year. Also, there's an odd look that comes into his eyes sometimes and I wonder if it could have anything to do with whatever happened to him while we were separated in the Quell.

At some point I realize I've been moved to a new bed and I have a new visitor, one who I couldn't possibly ignore. I remember how upset I was when I didn't get the chance to say goodbye to him before the Quarter Quell and now it's such a relief to see him again.

"Gale," I say, taking in the sight of him sitting in a chair at my bedside. But he's also a reminder of my home and all the other things I have to worry about. "Prim - is she -"

"She's fine. I got her and your mother out in time." _In time?_

Then he starts saying things, impossible things that I can hardly make sense of in my addled state. I shake my head and try to stop him from talking, because I can't stand the thought of what his words imply. But Gale isn't one to keep things from me. "Katniss," he says, "there is no District Twelve."

* * *

><p>Even after I've been through the place, it's still hard to believe that District Thirteen is real. I hate the oppressive, confining feeling of being underground like this. It makes me think of my father and the mines. But it's not as if I have a choice. I've been forced into hiding by my actions in the Quell and as the Mockingjay I am certainly at the top of the Capitol's hit list. Although, even if I weren't the symbol of the rebellion, it's not as if I have a home to return to. District Twelve is gone and so are most of its residents. More casualties of the war, more deaths caused by me.<p>

But Peeta says I can't think like that. Whenever I make a remark about all of the destruction I've caused or how guilty I feel, he's quick to insist that I am not to blame. He tells me there's no way I could have known that, by saving the two of us, I would (indirectly, he says) be causing the deaths of so many others. He also assures me that another rebellion was bound to happen some time. If not now and because of us, there would have been another spark eventually. Another spark that would turn into the inferno that the rebellion has become. His words are always consoling but they never obliterate my feeling of responsibility.

In Thirteen, I'm assigned to live in a compartment with my mother and Prim. However, after a couple of restless nights in which I wake up terror stricken from nightmares of dead tributes and scorched residents of District Twelve, I start to sneak out.

The first night I go to Peeta's room I feel a little nervous. On some level, I know there's no reason for this. What is there to be nervous about? We've shared a bed before and he obviously cares about me as much as ever. Maybe it's because I've been feeling just a little differently about him ever since that night in the Quell, when we kissed. That night that I can't help thinking of whenever we're together.

It's about a week after our arrival in Thirteen. I've suffered through too many nightmares on my own and the thought of staying in the compartment with my sleeping mother and sister is unbearable. Silently, I climb out of my bed and walk across the floor, then slip out the door and shut it behind me. I make my way to Peeta's compartment and knock softly on his door, fearing that in such close quarters someone else might hear. At first I think I've been too quiet and even Peeta hasn't heard me, but then I hear some shuffling around within his room. When the door opens, Peeta's standing there. He smiles at me but the smile doesn't reach his eyes, it stays confined to the lower half of his face. "I was hoping it would be you," he says.

I smile back at him tentatively. What right do I have to ask anything of him? Why should he let me into his room? _He wants me here_, I tell myself, _he needs me as much as I need him_. "Can I -?"

Peeta nods his head and steps aside, holding the door all the way open. "Come in," he says.

I enter his room and hesitate for a moment. There is only one chair in the tiny space and his small bed pushed into a corner. The bed looks so comfortable and I feel so tired that I decide to just sit down there. Why pretend I've come here for anything else?

"Couldn't sleep?" Peeta asks, hobbling over to join me. He sits down and props his crutches against the wall. I shake my head. "Want to talk about it?" he asks, reminding me so much of that night on the train before the Quell, when I woke up from a nightmare and then found Peeta and we watched those tapes of past Hunger Games, curled up together on the couch.

I shake my head once more. "Can I just…stay?"

Peeta smiles again, this time more sincerely. "Of course." After a moment he adds, "As long as I won't get in trouble with your mother over it."

I start to smile, but then I think of his family and feel myself frowning again. Peeta no longer has parents to try to guard his innocence and virtue. I wonder if that is why he's seemed different lately. It would make perfect sense. He may have told me that I am his whole life, but those were just words. He must be devastated over the loss of his father and brothers, and maybe he even misses his mother, too.

"She doesn't have to find out," I tell him. And even if my mother did find out, I don't really have to answer to her anymore. After everything I've been through, I think I deserve to make my own decisions and sleep wherever I please. Besides, I like to think that my mother knows me too well to misunderstand the kind of relationship that Peeta and I have. We certainly aren't going to do anything other than sleep.

That look of weariness comes over Peeta's face again and I feel compelled to ask him about it. "This might be a stupid question, but is there something wrong? Beside the obvious, I mean?"

Peeta's eyes meet mine and he seems to hesitate. But then he shakes his head slightly and says, "No, it's just…everything. What happened in Twelve, and in the Quell. And I worry about Finnick and Johanna."

So I'm not the only one who keeps thinking of them. "So do I. But they could be dead by now for all we know."

"I don't think so," Peeta says, "I don't think Snow's that kind."

He's right, and is voicing exactly what I've been thinking, but to hear it out loud makes the whole thing worse. "I wish there was something we could do for them, but I can't think of anything. I feel like all I can do is hope that they're not being harmed -" _too badly_, I was going to say.

"We know that's not true, Katniss," Peeta says, callously cutting me off.

"Fine, then," I say, annoyed. "I guess we don't have anything to hope for and we should just try not to think about them."

"No," Peeta says, seeming to return to his old self. "I'm sorry, you're right. We have to hope and try to come up with something. But short of a suicidal rescue mission, I don't know what can be done." He takes one of my hands in his and soothingly stokes the back of it with his thumb.

The thought has crossed my mind too, but it is true that it would be suicidal to try to get them out of the Capitol. I can't imagine any prisoners are more well guarded than Finnick and Johanna. We're both silent for a minute or so, while Peeta's half-hearted suggestion hangs in the air.

"Do you mind taking the back?" Peeta asks, referring now to our sleeping arrangements. "My leg - it's still sensitive."

"Sure," I say, scooting over to the side of the bed that is pressed up against the wall. Together, Peeta and I pull down the covers and slide under them. He lies on his back, my head quickly finds its way onto his chest and his arms wrap around me. I still feel upset over our conversation and thoughts of the rebellion and warring in the districts, but I fall asleep faster than I have in a long time.

This becomes our regular, nightly routine. I sneak out, Peeta expects me and waits for me. We talk for a little while and then go to sleep. His arms are my refuge from the world and the only time I feel any semblance of normalcy or peace of mind is when they're around me.

If Prim or my mother ever wake up in the night and notice I'm gone, they don't mention it. I've always gotten up earlier than they do anyway, so I doubt they give much thought to my absence in the mornings. They probably just assume I'm off wandering the corridors or showering or something.

About a month after the Quell, I decide that I need to see Twelve again. I need to see, with my own eyes, just how serious and real the war against the Capitol has become. Gale and I, and a couple of others, take a hovercraft to Twelve, but I'm the only one who disembarks and walks around the ruins. I want to be alone.

One would think that after the horrors of the arenas in the Games last year, and the Quell, there wouldn't be much that could shock or terrify me anymore. But the remains of my old neighbors and acquaintances are sobering and terrifying. I walk around the charred ruins, scarcely able to believe my eyes. Gone. It's all gone, except for the Victor's Village. I go to my house there and find a single white rose. It smells sickening and I'm unnerved to know that Snow suspected I'd be back here.

But the rose also causes me to feel angry. His antagonism makes me want to work even harder to defeat him. So I train, day in and day out. Gale and I, and the others from Twelve who are able-bodied and over the age of fourteen, are given the title of 'Soldier' as we prepare for the war. Peeta's leg will take some time to heal so he can't train right now, but he keeps insisting that the moment he's able, he'll be right there beside me, preparing for an assault on the Capitol.

I wish I could see Peeta more often during the day but for the most part we're only together at mealtimes. I'm kept to a rigid schedule that includes training, meetings, and now we've started shooting propos which Beetee broadcasts for the cause of the rebellion. I don't particularly want to be seen as the symbol of the rebellion but I feel obligated to do what I can, for Johanna and Finnick, and everyone who died in Twelve and in the Games. If appearing in propos is the way in which I can most effectively work to overthrow the Capitol, I am willing to be a part of them.

We realize pretty quickly that I'm horrible on camera and completely useless in a rehearsed, safe environment. We then decide it would be better to shoot the propos away from Thirteen. This is dangerous because it requires a team, which includes me, Gale, President Coin's guard Boggs, and the film crew to go out to the warring districts. I don't tell Peeta about the propos beforehand because, knowing him, he'd probably drag himself onto the hovercraft with us and then insist on following me around on the ground, which would be ridiculous. But after he learns of just how close a call we had when a hospital was bombed in District Eight, Peeta gets angry with me for keeping something so important a secret.

"I knew you'd try to stop me," I say, when I see him in the dining hall for the first time after my return from Eight. "And there wouldn't have been any point. I have to do this. I have to do anything and everything I can."

"You promised you wouldn't keep things from me anymore," says Peeta.

"Wh -" At first, I don't recall making any such promise, but then it hits me. "You mean in Eleven during the Victory Tour?"

"Yeah," Peeta says curtly, reminding me of how angry he was that day.

I really didn't think that counted anymore. After all, Haymitch and I were supposedly conspiring to protect him during the Quell and we kept that from him…sort of. And besides, I couldn't think of a possible downside to keeping my propos travels a secret from Peeta. This is nothing like what happened in District Eleven.

"It just doesn't have anything to do with you, Peeta," I say.

Peeta's eyes widen and he leans back in his chair. Was that the wrong thing to say?

It's Gale, from his seat beside me, who puts an end to the arguing. He looks at Peeta and says sharply, "I won't let anything happen to her."

Peeta looks from me to Gale, hesitates, then nods once, still upset but seemingly appeased for the moment. I know what Gale really meant. He meant that his presence, by my side, is as good as Peeta's would be when it comes to protecting me, and that my safety is just as important to him as it is to Peeta.

I hate the way they're looking at each other and am angered by both the implication of Gale's words and Peeta's reaction to them. _I'm the one who survived the Hunger Games twice and destroyed an arena_, I remind myself defiantly, _not Gale_. I don't _need_ to be protected.

"I can take care of myself," I say icily, as I glare at each of them. I quickly finish my small, mushy meal and leave the table without saying another word. I also have every intention of staying in my room with Prim and my mother tonight. Peeta thinks I need Gale to protect me? I'll show him just how little I need either one of them.

That night, I'm still angry over the way they insulted me, but the Capitol is retaliating by airing a propo of their own, and Peeta and I (among others) wind up in a room together watching television. When I arrive I take a seat in a chair next to Boggs. It's not long before Peeta shows up and sits on the other side of me for some reason, even though there are plenty of unoccupied seats in the room. I feel myself go rigid and I refuse to look directly at him. He's wise enough to refrain from speaking to me during the small amount of time between his arrival and when the propo starts.

I was expecting to see something infuriating, something that would inspire me to train harder and put myself in harm's way again for the sake of shooting our own retaliation, but I'm so shocked by what the Capitol airs that I only feel fear and sadness.


	2. Victors

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _The Hunger Games_.

* * *

><p>It's Finnick. But he looks so different, so incredibly different from when I last saw him in the Quarter Quell. I wonder what the Capitol has been doing to him to make him deteriorate in this way. He's clearly lost weight, his face is very pale and there are bags under his eyes, making him look exhausted.<p>

Caesar Flickerman is there as well, asking Finnick questions about the rebellion and what happened in the Quell. I don't know what the Capitol expected or what Finnick may have agreed to say beforehand, but from the first it's pretty clear that he's not going along with their script. He looks weak and defeated but somehow manages to put up a defiant and angry front. I wonder how long they'll keep him on screen with this attitude. He's so brave, just like Johanna. How can they be so brave?

"Well, Finnick," Caesar says, still trying to make the interview work, "what would you say to the people in District Thirteen?" I've never seen Caesar look nervous before but I'm sure he has a reason to now. Who knows if the Capitol may blame him, along with Finnick, for the way this is going? I can't believe they haven't ended the spot yet.

"Watch out," Finnick says. Then the image of him starts to break up, but we catch one more sentence: "You'll be dead by morning" before he disappears and is replaced by a white snowstorm of static.

_Oh, no, _I think, _not Finnick_. I realize that everyone in Panem is probably thinking the exact same thing I am, and it dawns on me why they let the interview continue as long as they did. Finnick may have been particularly beloved in the Capitol but I bet the whole rest of the country cares about him, too. We do have a fondness for the victors, after seeing them win and then seeing them during the ceremonies that precede the Games every year. And Finnick is even more popular than most. Showing him like this could be a great way for the Capitol to make people hesitate and give more thought to the consequences of a war.

It's so upsetting that, without even realizing what I'm doing, I lean over to Peeta, burying my face in his chest and practically throwing myself onto his lap. His arms close around me and I forget all about being angry with him. I wonder if the reason Johanna wasn't included in the propo is that she's dead. I hope she is, it would be better than what they're doing to Finnick. My stomach hurts and I feel almost like I'm sobbing but there are no tears.

There are voices all around me discussing what we just saw. _"Dead by morning?" _The talk turns frantic as plans are made for a retreat further below the ground.

I'm suddenly incredibly aware of Peeta, warm and alive and here to comfort me. And I remember that he's only here because of Finnick. In the arena, I couldn't save Peeta and Finnick could and I'll never forget it. I have to do something, even if it means going to the Capitol alone and finding him myself so that I can kill him and put him out of his misery. It's not long before a piercing, maddening alarm sounds and I have to move. I force myself to calm down. I will do something for Finnick, I just don't know what yet. I'll decide later, after we've gone further underground to the part of Thirteen's infrastructure that is meant to withstand substantial bombing. He doesn't use the crutches anymore, but Peeta still has trouble walking and I have to help him. People are hurrying past us on both sides as we make our way down a hall in our descent into the shelter.

Just when I think I'll go mad from the sound of that siren and that Peeta and I are surely the last ones left who haven't reached our destination, I see Gale directly in front of us. He must have reached the shelter already and come back. It's still too loud for us to speak, so he doesn't say a word. He just strides quickly to Peeta's side, takes his other arm and helps us the rest of the way there. With Gale we can move twice as fast, but we still just barely make it to the entrance of the bomb shelter in time. Some guards were closing a large metal door and they open it back up just enough for the three of us to slip inside one by one, and then they seal it shut for good. Looking back on it, I'm sure if Gale hadn't shown up, someone else would have noticed I was missing and come back for Peeta and I. But it means so much to me that he was the one to come looking for us.

I help Peeta to get situated in one of the bunks down here but don't even get the chance to say two words to him before Gale and I are called to a meeting. There's more talk about the propo with Finnick and now everyone is analyzing what it means, how effective it might be, and even planning our next propo spot. However, we don't have long before the bombs start to fall. They're not very loud, but the whole place shakes and everyone is unnerved by them. The meeting breaks up, so I go to find my mother and Prim. My mother is off healing someone and Prim and I end up huddling together on our assigned bunk down here. I consider going to find Peeta and inviting him to sit with us, but then I remember that I'm still annoyed with him over what he and Gale said today, and I would rather just be with Prim anyway. I wish I could think of something to talk about to distract her but everything seems so trivial. It's not until Prim speaks that I realize talking, about anything, is better than silence and obsession.

"Are you going to be sneaking off now that we're down here, too?" she asks.

I look at her pretty face and actually feel myself smile. "You know about that?"

Prim smiles back. "I'm not blind, Katniss."

I'm not exactly sure what to say about this. "He just…helps me with the nightmares I have," I tell her.

"Peeta?"

"Who else?"

"Well, I figured it was either him or Gale you were going to see."

"Oh," I say, surprised again by her level of knowledge about this part of my life. "Yes, it's Peeta who I leave to be with."

Prim nods, and I ask her if our mother knows.

"Well, I've never talked about it with her but I think she does," Prim says, "but she must not mind. I mean, she must understand why you leave."

Right. I consider this revelation for a few seconds. My mother must also know that she has no right to tell me what to do. We would all be dead now if it wasn't for me. If I've grown up too fast, she is to blame. And I'll be eighteen in just a few months, anyway.

"I don't mind, if you want to go find Peeta and be with him now," Prim says.

I'm hardly going to leave my little sister alone while bombs are being dropped on us. "No," I say, "I want to stay with you and I'm…mad at him anyway."

"Why?" Prim asks, and I tell her about what happened over lunch today. She looks confused and then distressed as she listens. "Katniss," she says, "when someone does something that makes you mad, you have to think about their intentions."

Yes…that's true, of course.

Prim continues, "Peeta and Gale both care about you. Peeta was worried and Gale tried to make him feel better and it sounds like he succeeded. I'm sure neither one of them meant to insult you. Even if you took it that way, it's not their fault and I don't think you should be mad."

Prim's words make such perfect sense that I feel embarrassed over the way I've acted. It was one thing to storm off the way I did, but I should have gotten over it and spoken to Peeta before the propo instead of being so hostile. I do want to go find him now but I still won't leave Prim alone. "You're right, Prim. Thanks."

She smiles, and I decide to change the subject. "You must know about the television spot with Finnick," I say, "did you see it yourself?"

"No, I was working in the hospital," she says, "but one of the guards came in and told us about it when we were evacuated."

"It's so upsetting," I say, "Finnick and Peeta and I, well you know -"

Prim nods. "Yes, I remember how much he helped you."

"I just wish I could help him," I say.

"You can," Prim says, "you can do anything. You're the Mockingjay."

It's flattering to hear that my little sister has so much faith in me but somehow her words just make me feel more helpless. They also cause me to question the feeling I've been getting lately that she's growing up too fast. My confusion must be obvious.

"Katniss, I bet you can ask for anything you want and they'll have to give it to you. They need you. If you want Finnick saved, then make someone save him," she says.

"You - you think I have that kind of power?"

"Yes," she assures me. "Just threaten to stop making propos or something. The rebellion needs you, that's obvious. Otherwise they wouldn't have gone to so much trouble to get you out of the arena at the end of the Quarter Quell."

Prim makes it sound so simple and I realize that she's right again. Why didn't I talk to her about this before? It's now that my mother shows up and, having secured company for Prim, I decide to leave. I thank my sagely little sister and then go to find Peeta. On my way, I realize how lucky I am to have Prim and my mother. Peeta doesn't have any family to be with now. He only has me.

The place where he's to sleep now makes his other room seem spacious. This part of Thirteen is much smaller than the upper levels. His 'bed' if it can be called that is only a little wider than body width. Peeta's lying down when I find him, staring up at the low ceiling. He looks so alone.

"Hi," I say.

He turns onto his side when he sees me, making room for me to sit on the thin, narrow mattress. I take a seat, then reconsider and squeeze into a lying position on the bed next to him. We both have to lie sideways in order to fit. His face is just inches from mine and it has that look I've been seeing more and more lately. That solemn look of suppressed sadness and distress.

"I'm sorry I got mad earlier," I say, hoping that my words will help him feel at least a little better. I know I'm not the only thing on his mind but if I can eliminate one problem, that's something. "I know you only said the things you did because you care about me and I can't be mad at you for that."

Peeta gives me a small smile but it only makes me feel worse. He's always so forgiving. Even last year when I got angry at him for telling all of Panem about his crush on me, and I pushed him and his hands got cut. Peeta should have been furious over having to go into the arena wounded but he was quick to tell me that it was fine, once I apologized. All he ever does is try to protect me and comfort me and help me in any way he can. How could I ever be angry with him? Then I remember his words during the Quell again, _"You're my whole life."_ If I'm his whole life and I push him away, then he has nothing, especially now that his family is gone.

I can't stand the thought of that and before I know it, I'm leaning forward and kissing him. His arms tighten around me and I start to think that maybe now I've made him feel better. A version of that feeling I had during the Quell returns and I don't ever want to stop kissing him, but somehow I remember that this isn't the time or place for that. I gently pull away and look into his eyes, which are more bright and lively than I've seen them since we got to Thirteen. I consider telling him about my plan to demand Finnick's rescue, but I don't feel like talking. Instead, I lean in closer, so that the entire length of my body is pressed tightly against him. There's hardly any room in this sorry excuse for a bed but it's just enough for us. Peeta's arms remain around me, a shelter just as welcome and needed as the one all around us. Eventually I manage to fall asleep, knowing that with such little privacy down here someone could easily find us like this. But at this point, I really don't care. I'm sure anyone would understand. Except Gale, maybe.

* * *

><p>In the morning, I realize that our kiss, which was the only one we've shared since the Quell, was a first of sorts and I don't think I'll ever forget it. I'll file it away in my memory, along with the others. There was the first kiss ever, when he had that raging fever, then there was the first kiss that meant something, also during our time in the cave. The kisses during the Quell won't be forgotten either. But this one…this was the first time when my lips touched his and there was no one watching, no camera, no show. This was the first kiss that was just for us. For a fleeting moment I think it was just for him, really, because I felt guilty. But no…I wanted it too. And I think I liked it as much as he did.<p>

It seems like Peeta's realized its significance also. During the brief time we're alone together before we go to get breakfast in the main hall down here, he seems so happy and keeps touching me. He takes my hands in his then touches my hair when I pull one hand away to take out my braid, and rests a hand on my leg while I re-braid my hair neatly. He even gives me a soft kiss on the neck before I stand up, off the bed, and we leave the area together. I don't really return his affection but I allow it. Surprisingly, I don't feel uncomfortable about any of it; it just feels nice. Something's changed between us and we both know it. I love seeing him happy again and I promise myself I'll try to think of him more. I'll try to be everything to Peeta that he is to me: considerate, attentive, and always kind. He deserves it.

But I can't dwell, not when there's so much to be done. I have to talk to Coin and make my demands. Peeta, Gale and I discuss it over breakfast and try to decide if I should ask for anything else, besides the rescue of Finnick, and possibly Johanna if she's still alive.

Gale offers to find Boggs and talk to him for me, and we arrange a meeting for that afternoon. We can't leave the bomb shelter just yet because more bombs are occasionally being dropped. There's no room for training, and not much to do down here, so I just spend most of the morning with Peeta. We go to the relatively spacious compartment reserved for Prim and my mother and I. They're both off working so we have the place to ourselves.

We end up sitting together on the floor. Peeta's back is up against the wall and I sit between his legs so that I can lean my back and head against his chest. Peeta entwines both of our hands together and wraps our arms around my waist. We talk a little about nothing in particular, but I'm distracted and he can tell.

"They'll be all right," Peeta tells me, referring to Finnick and Johanna.

I know he has the ability to be a good liar, but perhaps not to me. I can hear the edge of doubt in his voice and his words do nothing to alleviate my guilt. I feel so foolish for not realizing sooner that I may be able to help them. It makes me sick to imagine what sort of punishment Finnick may have gotten for warning us. I know Peeta's only trying to help me, but I don't believe what he says and it's frustrating. "I should have talked to Coin as soon as we got here," I say, "I can't believe I didn't think of it. Seeing Finnick like that…" I pause and shake my head, then find myself musing, "I owe him _everything_."

Peeta's arms tighten around me and he kisses the top of my head. This causes me to realize what I've just implied. Finnick saved Peeta's life and by saying that I owe him everything, I've implied that Peeta is everything to me. I give my head another little shake, in an attempt to clear it. I didn't think before I spoke those words and they're not true, exactly. Peeta isn't everything to me, if anything I would say that Prim is. Still, I can't bring myself to regret what I've said, not when Peeta obviously loved hearing it so much.

In the early afternoon there's a knock on the door. I stand up, make my way over to it and pull it open. Gale's there and he says that it's time to go see Coin. I'm about to leave with him, but then I turn back. I want Peeta with me. It's not fair that he's been left out of everything because of his injury. And I don't want to leave him alone again.

"Are you coming?" I ask.

He smiles, then gets to his feet and reaches my side as quickly as he can. I take Peeta's hand to help steady him as we walk slowly down the hall behind Gale. Even though I have a legitimate reason for holding Peeta's hand, I don't want Gale to see it and I keep hoping he won't turn around.

When we reach the room where the meeting is to be held, we're given three seats at a rectangular table. Coin sits directly across from me and Boggs and some lackeys stand around us. I begin to make my demands, one of which is the right to kill Snow myself. Coin won't agree to this, and tells me she'll flip me for the chance, when it comes down to it. I'm discouraged that this demand has only been half-heartedly agreed to. But I maintain my composure and determination. I tell her that she has to send in a troop to rescue Finnick and Johanna as soon as possible.

She's surprisingly quick to agree to this. Perhaps she's afraid that the propo, which featured Finnick, may have done us some damage. I know she's not eager to do as I say or help anyone if it doesn't help our cause.

"All right," Coin says, "Finnick Odair and Johanna Mason will be secured. While we're there, is there anyone else you'd like?" Her tone is almost mocking but I take the question seriously.

I look over at Peeta and remember him lying on the ground in the Quell, when his heart stopped. I couldn't do anything other than sob, but Finnick…I see Finnick leaning over him…

"Annie," I say, turning back to Coin. "Annie Cresta will be found and brought here too."

I remember Johanna saying there's no one left who she loves and decide that the addition of Annie will be sufficient. This is everything I can do for them. Coin agrees and the meeting is soon over.

We decide to shoot another propo, this time in District Two, which is the only district left that hasn't been taken over by the rebels. The propo will air during the rescue mission and hopefully be enough of a distraction to make it possible for Johanna, Finnick and Annie to be retrieved. I'm not allowed to come along on the rescue mission because I'm too important. Apparently, Peeta and I aren't the only ones who think it will be a suicide mission. I'm glad there's something I can do though, and don't hesitate to board an aircraft to Two. It's dangerous there but we blow up the Nut and shoot our video. However, things start to go wrong after that and the situation rapidly becomes very dangerous. I get shot and knocked unconscious.

I wasn't seriously injured, thanks to my armor, but I've got bruised ribs and they had to take out my spleen and I know I'll be needing morphling for a while. When I wake up in the hospital back in Thirteen, Peeta and Haymitch are both there. Peeta is too kind to say _I told you so_ and instead asks if I'm all right.

"I will be," I say, but almost immediately have to eat my words. Haymitch tells me that the rescue team left right around the time we got back from shooting the propo. I'm hazy from the morphling, but one thing Haymitch says is all too clear. Gale was part of the team. _Today I might lose him…_

I ask for more morphling, unable to bear the thought, and am mercifully put back to sleep. But Gale and the team return, and with success. Finnick and Johanna are in bad shape, but they're alive and so is Annie. Our propo probably helped a great deal, but it still wasn't easy to get them. Lives were lost in the rescue mission. More people are dead because of me.

My injury prevents me from doing much over the next few days and by the time I see Finnick and Johanna, I'm told they've started to improve. Both of their heads have been shaved and they've required a lot of morphling but they've been through awful things before and they will recover. They're not victors for nothing.

Gale works with Beetee more and more on applying his snare techniques to large scale weapons so I don't get to see him very often anymore. But by this time, Peeta's recovered enough to start training with the rest of the soldiers and, though his leg prevents him from doing some things, he seldom leaves my side most days. At night I keep going to his room, though there isn't any more kissing. It's enough just to be together. I know I shouldn't be happy, I have no reason or right to be, but I can't help it. Whenever I'm with Peeta I do feel a _kind_ of happiness, at least. He makes everything seem a little easier somehow.

Of course everyone would understand if they wanted to stay behind and take it easy, but Johanna and Finnick start to train also. They'll take a while to fully recover, and can't spend as much time training as the rest of us, but they are eager to keep fighting.

Finnick and Annie, who are both overjoyed just to be here and together again, get married in a traditional District Four ceremony. I provide Annie with a dress that was left in my house in the Victor's Village and Peeta decorates a beautiful wedding cake for them. A lovely celebration is held and luxuries that are not usually a part of our lives here in Thirteen are splurged for.

Peeta and I dance together at the celebration. With one of his hands on my waist and the other holding mine, I can't help thinking of the last time we danced together, during the party at the president's mansion at the end of the Victory Tour. We've come so far since then. Every aspect of our lives has changed so much. I know more changes are still to come, hopefully for the better, but things could also get so much worse from this point.

My worries about the war must be written all over my face, because Peeta smiles at me and says, "Think about right now."

I take a deep breath and try to get rid of that contracting feeling around my chest that is present more and more as days go by and plans are made for our assault on the Capitol. I try to do as he says. I look around and see happiness. Most people seem to be doing a good job at forgetting so why can't I, just for tonight? I look back at Peeta and force myself to smile at him. I see Finnick and Annie behind him. They're both so happy and can't seem to take their eyes off each other. They're dancing far closer together than Peeta and I, and I can't help envying them. No one seeing them could doubt their love.

Gale's nowhere in sight, he's probably off somewhere working. He's always working with Beetee lately. It's like he's determined to put in just as many hours here in Thirteen as he did in the mines in Twelve. He was here for the ceremony but I guess the party didn't interest him.

I look into Peeta's blue eyes and decide that, at least for tonight, I _will_ feel like Finnick and Annie. Gale isn't here to be hurt by seeing us together and it doesn't matter what will happen tomorrow or the next day. Right now, I just want to be with Peeta and let him make me as happy as he's always trying to. I move closer to him and my arms find their way around his neck. He holds me gently around my waist and I realize that, though we always sleep in each other's arms, we never end up like this outside his room or in the presence of other people.

It does feel good to be with him like this, surrounded by happiness and celebration. This is how things should be. Why do moments like this have to be so fleeting, so few and far between? In my carefree, peaceful state of mind I feel something floating up from the depths of my memory. It's Peeta's voice, saying just one word.

He said it the day that I had to climb a tree to get back over the fence into Twelve, and I hurt my ankle and tailbone. I remember it now. My mother had given me sleep syrup and Peeta carried me up to my room. I was fading fast, but I didn't want him to leave, and asked him to stay with me. I didn't consciously hear him at the time, but somehow my mind internalized the word: _"Always."_

I pull back, needing to see his face again and look into his eyes. I reach up and touch his cheek, and feel my mouth open just a little as I become transfixed by the sight of his lips. It's only just as I'm about to lean in that I remember where we are. I can't kiss him here, where anyone could see us. It doesn't matter that they've all seen us kiss a thousand times before, during the Games and interviews and the Victory Tour.

I get hold of Peeta's hand and start to pull him through the crowd and out of the large room. I take one last glance back but no one's looking, no one seems to have noticed us. Our fingers remain intertwined as we walk down a dimly lit hallway, away from the party.

"Where are we going?" he asks cheerfully. He must know what I'm up to.

"I don't know," I say honestly. I consider going to his room but it seems so far away from this part of Thirteen. We reach a supply closet and I pull Peeta inside with me and into darkness. That's when I start to hesitate and feel nervous. The rush of feeling I had for him, as a result of my memory of that day back in Twelve, has dissipated. I feel strange about leaving the party like that and wonder if I've made a mistake.

But Peeta isn't nervous. I feel his hands on my face and then he's leaning down and his warm, soft lips are on mine. His arms slide down to wrap around my waist, pulling me closer and making me forget my doubts. My feet are lifted off the ground and I'm reminded of just how strong he is. He's holding me up and against him with such ease.

Our kiss, which started out slowly, begins to change. My mouth becomes desperate as it moves with his. But no matter how perfect this feels, it just isn't enough somehow. I wish we could stay like this forever…but everything has to end, and my lips eventually start to feel like they could use a rest.

I gently pull away and softly say Peeta's name. He sets me back down on the ground, understanding. But I still want to be close to him so I step toward him and rest my head against his chest. His heart is racing; it sounds nothing like the steady rhythm I'm used to hearing as I fall asleep. After a minute or so like this, he takes my hand in his and we return to the party.


	3. Scars

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _The Hunger Games_.

* * *

><p>When I wake up the next morning, I feel happy for just a few more moments, before I return to reality. It's time to go have breakfast, and then train for the assault. Even Peeta's warm arms around me can't lift my mood. Somehow it's as if I have to worry even more now, after having managed to feel normal last night. The apprehension has returned, and with a vengeance.<p>

Peeta can tell how I feel, and that I'm in no mood for any more displays of affection now that the night is over. I leave his room, then return to the one my mother and Prim still sleep in. I get some clothes, take a shower, and then go to the dining hall. Peeta's already there. He's sitting at our usual table with a mostly full plate. I get a tray of food and make my way over there, taking a seat next to Peeta, who's next to Annie, who's next to Finnick. Johanna and Gale are across from us. Everyone greets me in their own way, and then there's silence for a few seconds while we eat. Johanna, who I realize missed both the ceremony and celebration yesterday, is the first one to speak again.

"What happened there?" she asks Gale, eyeing his forearm.

Gale looks down at the scar. "Wild dog," he says.

Johanna's eyebrows raise. "And you got away?" she says teasingly, "I'm impressed." I know the story of that scar, and Gale did not get away, he killed the thing. But he doesn't contradict her. Johanna rolls her sleeve up, exposing jagged, protruding lines along her own forearm.

"Let me guess," Gale says, staring down at them. "Scrapes from branches in the woods in Seven?"

"Ha ha, you're so funny," Johanna says flatly. "No. Can't you tell they're much fresher than that? What do you think, will they heal up any better than this?" she asks.

Gale reaches out and softly runs his fingers along the length of Johanna's scars. "I don't know, maybe. I've seen worse."

"I bet you have," Johanna says sarcastically. It's odd, the way she's looking at him and what she's implying. I realize then that Gale is the only one of the six of us who's never been a tribute, never been into an arena. I can hardly believe that even Johanna would use this fact to insult him. It's true that the rest of us have seen and (with the exception of Annie) done horrible things, but to isolate anyone who's not a victor, and hold it against them, is just ridiculous.

"Finnick's got some worse ones, don't you?" Johanna says, turning away from Gale to look across the table at Finnick.

I glance over and see that Annie's done that thing again, where she puts her hands over her ears and withdraws from the world. Finnick wraps his arms around her and speaks to her softly, coaxing her back to reality, all the while glaring at Johanna. Eventually, Annie relaxes and then she and Finnick leave, hand in hand.

"Do you have to do that? You know it's hard for her, hearing about what happened in the Capitol," Peeta says.

"Him, too," I add.

"My head doctor says I shouldn't sensor my thoughts," Johanna says casually, adjusting the cloche hat she's taken to wearing while her hair grows back in.

Peeta suddenly seems a bit anxious to for us to leave, too. So he and I finish eating (we were nearly done anyway) and stand up, trays in hand. As we're walking away, I can hear Johanna say to Gale, her only remaining companion, "Was it something I said?" in a voice laced with irony.

Days pass. Eat, train, eat, train, eat, sleep. Sometimes there are meetings to go to, but this is mostly all I do. Time doesn't seem to have much meaning. I think it's a week or so after the wedding when Peeta wakes up in the night, from a bad nightmare. He never cries out the way I do, but this time I hear him gasp and feel him jolt as he wakes up, and wakes me up.

"What happened?" I ask, lifting my head so that I can see his face. I expect him to tell me what's on his mind, but he won't. He quickly and insistently says that it was nothing unusual, and I should go back to sleep. He sounds so desperate to keep his nightmare a secret that I feel like I have no choice but to stop asking him about it. I lie my head back down on his chest and try to go back to sleep, but I'm worried about him and it takes a long time for me to drift off.

The next day, Peeta insists on staying in his room when I leave for breakfast. "I'm just not hungry," he tells me. I want to stay with him, if not to listen to his troubles then at least to keep him company, but I am hungry. Our meals are so small that I can't afford to miss one. Not if I'm going to keep up my energy enough to train as hard as we do. I go down to breakfast and Peeta's absence beside me is almost painful. It's not just that I miss him, it's that I know he's upset about something and there's nothing I can do to help him.

As usual, Finnick and Annie are the first ones to finish eating and leave the table. Johanna, who tells us she has an appointment with her head doctor, stands up and leaves next. Gale and I are the only ones left.

"Where's Peeta?" Gale asks, once he's finished with his food.

"He wasn't feeling well," I say honestly. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wonder if the way I've phrased them makes it obvious that I woke up in Peeta's room with him this morning. Maybe not, though…maybe I just went to his room to get him or something.

No. Gale can tell. He looks down at his empty plate, then back up at me.

"It's all right," he says, "I think…I've known this is what would happen for a while. Maybe even since the Games last year."

"You know what you mean to me," I tell Gale. I reach out and find his hand, gripping it firmly. He responds, but his hold is loose. He raises our cupped hands up between us and looks at them.

"Yes, I do," he says, his eyes fixed on my hand, which is above his, "but I also know why you're still wearing this ring."

"I -" I start to speak, but have no idea what to say. I look down at the engagement ring that Peeta gave me when he proposed. It has a thin white gold band and a little stone. It's lightweight and small, just what I would have wanted. Peeta could have afforded something more ostentatious, but that would have been wasteful and I wouldn't like anything gaudy anyway. I'd honestly forgotten all about the ring. I had to wear it during the Quell and the events beforehand, and I suppose I just got used to it, and there never seemed to be any reason to take it off.

I slowly pull my hand away from Gale's and stare at it. I think about taking the ring off right now, but what would be the point? I'd put it back on before I saw Peeta again, otherwise he would notice its absence and be hurt. Like Gale, I'm sure he's conscious of the fact that I've been wearing it this whole time. Taking it off would be sending Peeta a pretty powerful message…but what does it mean to leave it on?

I start to fidget with the ring with the index finger and thumb of my right hand. "I -" I start again.

"You don't have to say anything," Gale interrupts. He abruptly stands up and walks away and I realize that I shouldn't have taken his hand like that, not when I keep kissing Peeta the way I do. I haven't made Peeta any real promises, but I'm starting to think that there might be a reason why things between us seem to be changing, while my relationship with Gale has remained pretty stagnant since we got to Thirteen.

And maybe I have kept the ring on for a reason. Even though our engagement wasn't real, it's still a gift from Peeta and that makes it important to me, just like the pearl. I'm always telling myself that I don't have time to think about how I feel or try to decide anything. I also tell myself that I still don't want to get married, but the rebellion is real. There's finally a chance for things to change. If I make it through the war alive, maybe I could have a relatively normal life. I still wouldn't want children, but being with someone…it might be nice.

Plus, it's cruel to keep stringing them both along the way I have. I'm only making things worse for everyone, including myself. I finish the few bites of food I have left, then push my plate away. I lean my head forward, resting my chin in my hands and my elbows on the table as I try to concentrate. I try to picture what a life with Peeta might be like, if the war ever ends. I imagine seeing him every day, waking up next to him, talking to him, receiving his kisses and hugs. Of course I would miss Gale, he'll always be important to me.

Next, I try to imagine myself having a similar life with Gale, and never seeing Peeta again. Suddenly it's so obvious and simple.

Life without Gale? Difficult. Life without Peeta? Impossible. It _has_ to be Peeta…I don't think I could survive without him. I knew it during the Quell, on some level. I admitted to myself that I would be damaged beyond repair if Peeta died, and told him I needed him. How could I have forgotten how determined I was to keep him alive, and how desperate I was at the thought of losing him?

I suddenly want to see him again. I can't bear the thought of him suffering in silence back in our room. I have about an hour before I have to be at the meeting that's scheduled for today, but I don't waste any time returning to the room.

He's gone when I get there, but I assume he just went to take a shower, so I wait for him. He returns after a few minutes, and his blond hair is still wet. He's obviously still upset over his nightmare, but manages to smile when he finds me waiting for him.

"I didn't think I'd see you again for a while," Peeta says, closing the door behind him. I reach my arms out toward him and he looks surprised for a second, but he quickly makes his way over to the bed and takes a seat beside me. His embrace is warm and nice and I can't imagine a time when I'll ever want him to let go of me. But I have to know what's bothering him. I pull back and look into his eyes.

"Please tell me what's wrong," I say, "I want to help."

"There's no point," Peeta says, looking away from me, "I can deal with it, and…you don't want to know, anyway."

"You can tell me anything," I insist. After all we've been through, doesn't he know that?

Peeta's gaze returns to mine and he sighs. "It's Brutus," he says, "I keep seeing him."

"Oh," I say, understanding and remembering Marvel, my first kill, and how I felt after that. How he seemed to stay with me. Of course Peeta is upset over killing someone, it's horrible to have to do that. But…he never seemed very upset over that girl he killed.

It's like he knows what I'm thinking, because he explains, "It was so different from killing that girl from Eight during the Games last year. She was so far gone, it was just a mercy killing by the time I went back for her." _Like Cato._

Peeta presses his lips tightly together for a moment while he thinks, and looks down at his hands. Then his eyes raise to mine and he says, "You were right, about what you said on the roof. Once you're in the arena, you're just a part of their Games, same as everyone else. You _can't_ hold onto yourself."

I reach out and place both of my hands in his. I know he has more to say, and I want to listen.

"I wasn't myself," Peeta continues, "after we were separated, in the Quell. I was so exhausted and _insane_ at the thought of losing you. All I could think of was finding you again, and then Brutus showed up and I lost it. I just wanted to keep looking for you to make sure you were safe, but I couldn't. I had to deal with him, and that made me so angry at him. We started fighting, but we both ended up losing our weapons. I tried to get mine again, and that's when he hit my leg with a rock he picked up. I couldn't believe how much it hurt, and it was going to make it harder to walk, and harder to look for you. I didn't care about finding my knife anymore, I just turned around and got hold of him and stood up, in spite of the pain. And I started hitting his head against a tree. Over and over and over…until -"

The next words out of his mouth conjure such a disturbing and vivid image of violence that, even after all I've seen, I feel a bit sick. Before I can stop myself, I react. I feel my eyes widen, and I lean back a little, completely shocked. I really didn't think Peeta had it in him to do something like this. I realize that my surprise could be misconstrued as fear and try to change my expression to one of sympathy. I finally understand why he was so somber when we first got to Thirteen. Doing that to someone had to feel much worse than shooting them with an arrow.

"I didn't want to tell you. I didn't ever want to tell anyone what I did." He lowers his eyes in shame.

"No," I say, shaking my head, "it's not your fault. You had to do it." I reach out and tilt his chin forward so he has to look into my eyes. "Anyone would have done the same thing."

"That's what I keep telling myself," Peeta says, sounding completely defeated, "but if I'd been able to stop, I might have just knocked him unconscious, and then he would have gotten picked up by the Capitol and not died that horrible death…at my hands."

"Of course you're upset about it," I say, "I understand. It's terrible. But it's not your fault, Peeta. I'm sure you were unbelievably frustrated and on-edge when he found you. And you had to do it, anyway," I insist. "You didn't know we were going to destroy the arena. He might have woken up found me. You…did it for me."

One side of Peeta's mouth raises in an insincere smile. "Did I, Katniss? If you really wanted me to win the Quell -"

"I did."

"Well, then, even if I did kill him to prevent him from killing you, it was really for me anyway."

"Don't," I say, placing both my hands on his face and leaning toward him, our eyes locked. I have to think of something to say that will help him. "It was for _us_, then. To keep us both alive as long as possible. You did it…so that we could be together now."

I must have finally said something with meaning, because Peeta actually smiles. "Together?" he says softly.

I nod without hesitation, and feel his arms wrap around me, pulling me in and hugging tightly. Then he's kissing me again and it feels nice, but what he's just told me is a reminder of something frightening. We've been through so much and I know there's more to come. How could I have ever thought we could live a normal life, even if we both make it through the war?

I think of Gale and Johanna, comparing their scars that time over breakfast. Johanna was right in implying that Gale's was nothing compared to hers. It's true that he'll never understand the rest of us, maybe no one can. The Capitol may have repaired the physical scars of the victors after the Games each year, but that doesn't help. Not when the real scars are on the inside.

* * *

><p>Finnick and Johanna are not going to be coming with us when we go to the Capitol. The news shouldn't be all that surprising, but it's hard to accept. I was especially counting on having Finnick there, as a part of the sharpshooting team.<p>

"They won't let me go," he tells me over dinner, and he's clearly more upset than I am. "I've been deemed 'unstable.'" Finnick seems perfectly rational, though a bit angry, at the moment.

"What are you talking about?" I say incredulously, "that's ridiculous."

Johanna sets her tray down and then takes her usual seat across from Finnick and Annie. Gale isn't here tonight, he's off with Beetee, so I'm sitting where he usually does. It seemed stupid for Johanna to have a whole side of the table to herself, and I want to be able to look at Finnick while I talk to him about this. "We didn't pass their test," Johanna says.

I know what she's talking about, of course. All of the soldiers were evaluated, and a part of the assessment was a test meant to target our weaknesses. Mine was supposed to be an inability to follow orders, but I realized it in time and was able to pass.

Finnick shoots Johanna a warning look, then glances at Annie. Johanna sighs, clearly eager to tell me all about the matter, but she censors herself for once. "Finnick and I both freaked out, because…because of what happened after the Quell." Because of some kind of torture that was done to them.

I feel Peeta's foot touch mine under the table and it's distracting. I turn my face toward him and quickly roll my eyes, before looking back at Finnick. Has Peeta gone deaf or something? Doesn't he realize there are more important things going on? I know he's used to being able to put his hand on my leg when we sit next to each other at mealtimes, but I'm still right here. We don't always have to be touching in some way.

"That's…" I don't really know what to say. But I know they both wanted to go, so I decide "I'm sorry," is safe. It's not until I've said the words that I realize what I really mean by them. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to help them more in the Quell. I'm sorry they got taken by the Capitol. And I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out that I was in a position to demand their rescue.

I see Annie happily look over at Finnick and can tell she's glad he won't be leaving. I don't blame her at all; I wish I could get Peeta to stay, but he refuses. Besides, Finnick and Annie have been through enough already. They deserve a break. And come to think of it, maybe Finnick isn't completely stable. Since their rescue, I've sometimes seen him frantically making knots on a bit of rope he carries around with him. I know he's doing it to escape, to forget about everything that's happened to him. It's gotten better lately, but I'm sure he's badly damaged, he and Johanna both. How could they not be?

"It's all right," Johanna says resignedly, "I thought something like this might happen when I found out about the test."

Gale and Boggs are the two who are mainly working on getting together our sharpshooting team. I'm sure Boggs knows already, but I wonder about Gale. "We should tell Gale," I say.

"I already told him," Johanna says quickly, averting her eyes from me, "about both of us," and glancing at Finnick.

"Oh, okay," I say, then look at Peeta again, "stop it."

He gives me the sweetest, apologetic smile and I can't help smiling back. I really wish he wasn't coming with us. I'm afraid for him, and he's not a sharpshooter anyway. But because we're the 'Star Squad' and everyone expects Peeta and I to be attached at the hip, he'll be allowed to join us. The original plan was for him to stay behind and appear in some propos, because having him speak for the cause of the rebellion was deemed the best use of his skills. But he wouldn't hear of that, and managed to convince everyone else that he would be plenty useful as a part of the Star Squad.

Still, I broach the issue that night when we're in his bed. "Peeta," I say softly, running my hand along the smooth skin over his stomach.

"Hm?"

"I'm afraid of what's going to happen when we leave. I'm afraid for you. It'll be hard enough to stay alive and I know the odds of my doing that aren't very good. And if you're there and in danger, I'll be distracted and it's just going to make everything twice as hard," I tell him.

"I can take care of myself," Peeta says, and I know he's smiling and thinking of when I said those same words to him after the fiasco in Eight.

"I know that," I say, "but it doesn't mean I won't worry. If you're not there, it'll be easier to focus on keeping myself alive, so I can come back to you."

"Katniss," Peeta says, then pauses and sighs. "Don't you remember during the Quell when we were separated?"

I remember all too well, the terror, the regret. I nod, knowing he'll feel it against his chest.

"We need to be together, no matter what the danger is. I couldn't stand sitting around here doing nothing while you could be out there getting hurt or worse. I have to go. I might be able to help you. I have to at least try," he says.

I'm glad we're talking about this for real now, it's making me feel a bit better. Before this, all of our conversations on the matter would basically just involve me saying, "Please just stay here," and him telling me, "I'm going." But I'm still not convinced. Everything he's said may be true, but so is everything I've said. I know he's going to win this one, though. He volunteered for the Quell so that he could protect me, and I'm sure he _would_ just be sitting here going crazy if I left him behind.

"I'm not happy about it," I say.

"Me neither. I'm not happy about any of this," Peeta says.

Point taken. But I still feel restless. We're leaving in just a couple of days and I know I need sleep, but it's a struggle to even keep my eyes shut. I squirm around in agitation and eventually pull away from Peeta so that I can lie on my back and stare up at the dark ceiling. Peeta can't sleep, either. I feel his hand smoothing my hair back and then it slides down to rest on my stomach, which he starts to rub soothingly.

"I'm scared," I whisper.

"So am I," he says, sliding his hand under my shirt so that it touches and warms my bare skin as it continues to move in a circular motion.

The truth is that I'm more than scared. I'm terrified. I want to stay here and hide until this is all over. Haven't I been through enough? I sigh, and remind myself that I agreed to be the rebels' Mockingjay. I have no choice but to go along with my orders. The rebellion needs every soldier it can get, and the propos that we're going to shoot could help a great deal. I have to do this.

I feel Peeta's lips on my forehead, then on my cheek, then on my neck. "Tell me a story," I say softly.

I feel him smile, then he pulls away to look into my eyes. "What kind of story?"

"I don't know," I say, "something…about you. About home."

Peeta leans his head against his hand and stares at the wall next to me, seemingly lost in thought. Then he smiles again, and his gaze flickers to mine for a moment before he lies his head on the bed pillow that we share and wraps his arms around me. I expected a story about his past, and he surprises me when he says, "We'll go back home after this is all over."

"But there isn't anything left there," I say.

"There are our houses in the Victor's Village," he reminds me. "We'll go back there."

I can't even imagine going home, after the way it looked when I last saw it. If Peeta had joined me when I walked around the ruins of Twelve, I doubt he would be talking this way. But, I realize, I can't think of anywhere else we could go, if we both survive the war, and neither of us would want to come back here to Thirteen, so I let him continue.

"You and your mother and Prim will move into your old house, and I'll be in my house, and Haymitch will be there, too." He pauses, then I can tell he's smiling as he adds, "We'll have picnics on the weekends."

I can't help laughing a little, and thinking of our conversation in the cave, when we talked about what a life after the Games would be like. "And we'll sit around the fire, telling old Hunger Games tales?"

"Right," Peeta says, then kisses my cheek again. "And you'll hunt again."

"What about you?"

"I'll bake. I'll make cheese buns for you every day, and I'll make Prim those muffins that she likes so much."

"And… what else?" I ask. I realize that I'm smiling. I don't know if I believe any of it is possible, but thinking about a life like this is actually making me feel kind of happy.

"Whatever you want. We can work on your family's plant book again, maybe you can show me the woods."

"And the lake," I blurt out, then explain, "the lake in the woods that my father used to take me to when I was a child. It's a long walk to get there from Twelve, but I can teach you to swim."

"I'd like that," Peeta says.

I feel relaxed now and soon enough, we return to our usual sleeping position. My head rests on Peeta's chest and his arms wrap around me. I keep picturing this life he's envisioned for us, and it comforts me. I try to tell myself that it _is_ a possibility. That we might both survive long enough to see the Capitol overthrown, and to see our home again. It's not long before I fall asleep.


	4. After

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Hunger Games_.

* * *

><p>That's it then. Our team is assembled. Me, Peeta, Gale, Boggs and some soldiers from Thirteen. Cressida and her camera crew. As the Star Squad, we document our travels and actions for the cause of the rebellion. This also means we have to stay out of harm's way a lot. We travel toward the Capitol, not seeing much action at first.<p>

But then we start running into the pods. After the death of Boggs, I realize just how serious things have become. The closer we get to the Capitol, the more dangerous our mission becomes. Even just existing is dangerous, because of the pods. Each death of a member of the squad makes me feel a little more numb. We end up having to go down into underground tunnels in order to avoid the Peacekeepers. Some horrible, terrifying mutts (designed specially for me) find us and we have to start running. Just when I think we may have lost them, we hear them again, in the distance.

"Run!" I say, pushing Peeta toward the ladder that leads up to a higher level. Surely the mutts couldn't reach us up there. I don't think they're human enough to climb it. "Go! Hurry!"

He's not foolish enough to waste any time arguing with me of course, but when we get to the ladder, he turns to me, reaches for my waist, and lifts me up onto it so that I have no choice but to begin my ascent. He wouldn't put himself in front of me. I can hardly stand going first, and leaving him behind me, but it would be a stupid waste of time to jump back down now that I'm on the ladder. I climb as fast as I can and when I reach the top, I turn around and frantically pull Peeta up and toward me, and together we stagger away from the ladder. I clutch him tightly and feel so glad I still haven't lost him. _Gale_.

I pull away from Peeta and see Cressida reach the top of the ladder, followed by Pollux and finally Gale. No one else comes.

"No!" I say. I have to do something, Castor, Homes and Mitchell are still down there. It's too dark to see them very well from this high up, but it's clear that the mutts have reached them.

"There's nothing we can do," Gale says from right beside me. I turn to him and look up into his gray eyes. They're hard and serious, but there's something else there, too. "Come on," he continues, "we have to move on."

I nod my head, knowing that he's right. In hopes of getting rid of some more mutts, I say "Nightlock" three times, to the Holo Boggs transferred to me, and then throw it down.

It's as we're walking through the tunnels again that I realize just what I saw in Gale's eyes after we escaped the mutts. I realize that it was me who cause that hurt, resigned expression, and I know exactly what I did. Telling Peeta to run and pushing him toward the ladder had been a reflex. I knew the mutts were coming, and I reacted without even thinking about it. I just had to save him, that was the only thing that mattered. Of course I tried to put him before myself, just like I did in the Quell. He deserves to live more than I do. But without even realizing it, I also put him before Gale. I made it incredibly clear which one of their survival was most important to me. Gale knows by now that it's Peeta I need, but that had to hurt after how much we've meant to each other these last few years.

Unless…I did it because I thought Peeta needed more protecting? Did I think Gale would be all right to fend for himself? Maybe. But after that story Peeta told me about killing Brutus, I should know that he can take care of himself also. Realistically, I don't know how much chance either of them would have stood against those mutts, but I think their chances of surviving would have been close to equal. Or at least, if it wasn't for Peeta's leg they might have been equal; I'm sure Gale can move faster.

After all that running from the mutts, we're all exhausted. We find a place where it's safe to go aboveground and Cressida leads the way to a closed down fur underwear shop. The woman who runs it, Tigris, is a former stylist who is on the side of the rebels. She offers us shelter, in a hidden section of the shop. It's a small space in which to get a few hours of rest. I can't remember the last time I slept, and quickly find a corner to curl up in. Peeta says he doesn't think he can sleep, so he sits in the doorway of the room. After a while, I hear him speak to someone.

"Thanks," Peeta says, and surprisingly, it's Gale who answers.

"Sure," he says, and I hear a slight shuffle as he sits down. "She okay?"

"I think so," Peeta says.

There's some unintelligible muttering from Gale and I strain to hear, but it's useless. But when Peeta speaks again, it's louder and then Gale takes to talking a bit louder, too.

"Johanna?"

"You've noticed, then?" Gale asks, surprised.

Peeta's silent for a few moments, then he says, "Well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't eager to see you take an interest in someone."

"Someone besides Katniss," Gale says, unnecessarily. There's a pause before he adds, "I don't know what's between Johanna and me. Sometimes she's normal enough, but other times, she pushes me away."

"She just doesn't know how to be happy," Peeta says, "she's lost everything. Maybe things will change after all this is over."

"I don't know," Gale says resignedly, "I'm not really expecting anything of her."

They're both silent for a little while, then Peeta speaks again. "I know Katniss loves you."

"Don't believe it," Gale says, "I see the way she looks at you…you won her over. Whatever was between us, it doesn't matter anymore." Then there's silence, and I assume Gale has left, though it's impossible to be certain, because of the velvet tread that I know he walks with.

_Gale and Johanna?_ How did I not notice anything, when Peeta did? I mean, I've seen them talking a few times, but I never thought anything of it. And she did say something about thinking he was attractive, but everyone thinks that. Before I can stop myself, I start to feel angry. _She's too old for him_, I think, _how could he even take her seriously, her being the way she is?_

_Gale is mine, I am his_…no. That's not right. I'm not his at all, not anymore. So how can I expect him to still be mine? And Johanna…she's like him in some ways. I think of the time they were talking about their scars over breakfast. When I felt like she was being mean to him and implying that because he wasn't a victor he couldn't possibly know anything about pain or wounds. Did I misunderstand what was going on between them? Another thought occurs to me: they were both conspicuously absent from the celebration after Finnick and Annie's wedding. I assumed Gale was working and Johanna was in therapy or something, but now I wonder if they were together.

I suppose she's only two or three years older than he is. That's nothing, really. It's not as if she's more mature than he is. Gale had to grow up when he was barely a teenager because of the accident in which our fathers died. And whenever Johanna calls me 'brainless' I wonder about her maturity.

Still, I don't like thinking about it. I wish Peeta would just get over here so I can fall asleep for real. I want to sit up and ask him to, but I don't think he would want me to have heard any of that, so I remain silent and consider Peeta's half of the conversation. He told Gale I loved him. _Oh, no_. I haven't been as consistently demonstrative with my feelings as Peeta is (especially since we left Thirteen), but he must know how much I care for him. I just don't want Gale to see us together, and it's hard to see someone die and then just pretend everything is okay and hold Peeta's hand or hug him. Does he think I regret choosing him? I can't let him think that.

I don't know how much time passes before I feel him settling in beside me, but when he does, I pretend to just be waking up. I turn toward him, reach one hand out and, pressing it against the back of his neck, pull him in for a kiss.

When we break apart for air, Peeta smiles and says, "I thought you were sleeping."

I consider telling him that I was, but I don't want to lie to him, so I just give a little shrug. I pull him down so we're lying side by side, and I smooth the hair back from his forehead. After a few seconds of silence, he speaks again.

"Thanks for helping me toward the ladder," he says with a little smile, trying to lighten the somber mood that fell over us all when Boggs died, and has only gotten worse and worse since then.

"That's what you and I do," I tell him, interlacing my fingers with his and raising his hand up to my lips so that I can kiss the back of it. I want to say more, to assure Peeta that Gale was right. That whatever was between he and I is over now, and it doesn't matter anymore, but I can't find the words. "We protect each other," I add, after a few seconds.

Peeta nods and leans in to kiss my forehead. "Always," he whispers, then pulls me in close and we try to get some rest.

* * *

><p>Finally having reached the part of the Capitol that is not deserted, we can now start to think about getting to Snow. His mansion is well guarded, but more rebel forces are arriving all the time. The Capitol is in a state of mayhem and it's dangerous just to be out on the street. Peeta, Gale and I are separated in the crowds, and I'm all by myself when I see the group of Capitol children, herded together in front of Snow's mansion to form a human shield. It's the worst horror of my life to witness the Capitol planes show up and drop bombs on them. I can hardly believe that even the Capitol would want to do this to the children. Then, I see some people going in to help and I spot Prim. What's she doing here? I thought she was still in Thirteen, as safe as anyone can be these days. I start heading over there, trying to reach her. I call her name and she looks up, I think she sees me…<p>

And that's when the second wave of explosions happens. I feel pain, as some of the flames reach me, and I mercifully lose consciousness.

…_Why aren't I dead? I should be dead…_

I'm given morphling to keep me out for I don't know how long. By the time I have little enough of the painkiller in me to form rational thoughts, I'm told that Snow has been removed from power and taken prisoner.

We've moved into Snow's mansion. I'm still reeling from the loss of Prim and don't know who all is here, but I've been given a room, and so have Haymitch and Peeta. I'm wandering around one day when I unwittingly stumble upon the place where Snow is being held. Guards try to stop me, but Paylor appears, as if from nowhere, and orders them to allow me in. They must be her guards.

Snow's there, tied up to a chair. He tells me that he was hoping I'd find my way to him, and then he starts talking about what a waste the dead children are. He says that there would have been no reason for him to do it, something so unnecessary, especially at that point. And he says that it was a masterful move on Coin's part.

"I don't believe a word you're saying," I tell him.

"My dear Miss Everdeen," Snow says, shaking his head in mock disappointment, "I thought we agreed not to lie to each other."

In spite of myself, I wonder if he may be telling the truth. And I also wonder why Prim, who was only thirteen years old, would have been sent to the front lines of the battling in the Capitol the way she was. I know Coin and I have never really gotten along, but…_no_. I can't let myself think like that. I'll lose my mind if I do. Or… have I already lost it?

After this, I return to my room, but I'm soon called to a meeting with the other living victors and Coin. Prim is gone and I can hardly believe the world still even exists. I don't want to go to a meeting, I just want to feel the morphling seeping into me again and making all of the pain go away. But the world hasn't stopped and I can't stay like that forever, much as I want to. I force myself to attend the meeting, even though I feel so hollow that I don't think I even have it in me to speak.

"We're considering having another Hunger Games tournament," Coin tells us, "with the children of influential Capitol residents. I thought the decision on whether or not to do this should be left up to all of you. Your votes will be kept confidential, but it will be known that, whatever you decide, the choice was yours collectively."

I look around the room. Peeta, Finnick, Annie, Haymitch, Enobaria and Johanna all look as shocked as I feel. I can't believe that Coin would do _this_. Because she's lived in Thirteen her whole life, she obviously has not been affected by the Games as much as those of us in the other Districts, but still. I'm appalled, but manage to keep my face set in an expressionless mask. _She's the same as Snow_, I think, _she's exactly the same. Nothing is going to change. I've lost Prim and now more children are going to die. Nothing will ever change or get better…unless…_

Peeta, who's sitting directly across from me, is the first to speak up. "No! I vote no, of course! This is why we rebelled! Remember?" he says incredulously, looking all around at the rest of us. When his eyes meet mine, he holds my gaze until I look away, and down at the full glass of water that I'm clutching in both hands.

Enobaria is the first one to vote yes, followed by Johanna. "Why not? It seems very fair to me," Johanna says.

Finnick and Annie vote no, of course, and then everyone looks at me. I know what I have to do to make Coin think that I'm on her side, so she won't be suspicious of me.

"I vote yes," I say, "for Prim." I can feel Peeta's eyes boring into me, but I won't look at him again. I hope he understands what I'm doing. He's seen me do horrible things, so perhaps he believes that I do want the cruel insanity of the Hunger Games to continue. If that is what he thinks, I don't want to know about it.

"Haymitch?" Coin says.

If Haymitch votes no, it will be a tie, but we don't have to worry about that. "I'm with the Mockingjay," he says.

It's now that I glance up at Peeta, who looks completely shocked and exasperated at this turn of events. He frantically looks around at all of us again. "Wh-what about Beetee?" he asks.

"Beetee chose to stay in District Thirteen and work on his current projects there, so his opinion is irrelevant," Coin says dismissively. "We'll make the preparations for a reaping," she tells us, not even trying to hide her satisfaction. The public assassination of Snow will come first, though, and Coin assures me he'll be told about the Games. I'm supposed to do it tomorrow, in the City Circle.

The meeting breaks up and I go back to my room in the mansion. I pull the comforter off the bed and take it with me into the closet, where I lie on the carpeted floor and cocoon myself within it. I can't stop thinking of Prim, of the last glimpse I caught of her. Thoughts of what I'm going to do in the City Circle tomorrow occasionally surface in my mind, as well. I keep telling myself that I have to do it. I have no choice and it doesn't matter what will happen to me afterwards, anyway. I have nothing left now that Prim is gone.

I don't know how long I've been lying in the dark when I hear a soft knocking on the door of the bedroom. I ignore it, even when it's repeated twice more. I hear a voice that I think is Peeta's saying what sounds like my name, but it's hard to be sure from in here. "I'm coming in," he says more loudly, then there's shuffling around within the room, and eventually the closet door opens and light shines in. I pull the blanket up to cover my face, and I hear Peeta approach me, then sit down beside me.

"Katniss?" he says softly.

I don't respond, but he pulls me up and onto his lap, so that my head is resting against his chest. His arms wrap tightly around me and his cheek leans against my hair. This is the first time that his holding me does nothing to comfort me. There's nothing that _could_ comfort me, I realize, if even Peeta can't. In a way, I'm almost glad. I don't deserve to feel comforted.

"Katniss," Peeta repeats. "I know how much pain you're in, but…this isn't the way."

So he did believe my vote of yes was a sincere one. Perhaps he thinks that if I change my mind we can have a re-vote. Or maybe not…maybe he's figured out what I'm really planning and knows it will result in my death? I don't know, but I do know that it doesn't matter what he thinks, because my mind is made up. I feel something wet hit my head and pull away to find that Peeta's crying. I suppose there must be some amount of feeling left in me, because I feel compelled to try to reassure him.

"Trust me," I whisper. It's not much, but I can't think of anything else to say.

I can see in his face that he does. Just like in the Games, when I shook the berries out of the pouch, and told him to trust me, Peeta will abide by my request. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

I shrug. It doesn't matter to me if he stays or not, but maybe I should let him, for his sake. So that he can spend every moment of the rest of my life with me. We end up lying side by side in my bed, not wrapped in each other's arms the way we usually spend our nights, but he does take my limp hand is his and holds it all night long. I don't know if either of us get any sleep before early morning sunlight starts slanting in through the windows.

Before we leave the mansion, Gale brings me a bow and a single arrow. It seems a bit odd and I find myself asking him, "What if I miss?"

"You won't miss," he tells me. Looking up at him, I can't help thinking of the bomb he designed with Beetee, the one made to kill those who rush in to help after a first explosion. When I found out about it back in Thirteen, I'd questioned if it was crossing some kind of line, and said, _"I guess there isn't a rule book for what might be unacceptable to do to another human being."_

I remember Gale staring at me with hostility, and his verbal response, all too well. _"Sure there is, we're using the same rule book the Capitol uses when they design the Games each year."_

Gale's right about my only needing the one arrow. When I get to the City Circle and see how close Snow is to me, I realize that I couldn't possibly miss my supposed target. I see Coin, too. Peeta and Gale are both standing with me. Looking at Snow, who is still tied up, I think again of when he reminded me of our promise, not to lie to each other. He's right, we did promise that.

I position my bow, hitch the arrow into place, and let it fly at Coin's heart. Time seems to stand still for a moment, and then she falls to the ground, dead. I hear the sound of Snow's laughter, and I drop my bow, knowing it's finally time to take the nightlock pill that's strapped to my wrist. I try to bring it to my mouth, but end up biting into the flesh of Peeta's hand. I pull back, look into his eyes and say, "Let me go!"

"I can't," he tells me.

I'm arrested of course, and imprisoned in my old room in the Training Center. In the weeks that I spend there, I try to think of a way to kill myself, but am unsuccessful. When I'm finally let out, Haymitch tells me that my trial is over, I've been acquitted, and that Paylor has been elected the new president of Panem. Haymitch, Peeta and I take a hovercraft back to District Twelve, where I've been banished until further notice. We barely talk on the ride home.

I spend the first month or so alone, mostly. Sitting, staring, hardly able to function. Greasy Sae comes over to cook for me twice a day, and Peeta stops by to check on me every afternoon. His visits only last for a couple of minutes, during which he asks if I need anything, and I shake my head, then he reminds me that I know where to find him, and says that he'll be back tomorrow. Then one day, I see Peeta outside planting a primrose bush for me and manage to thank him. After this, he starts coming over for mealtimes. And I start to realize that when he's around I feel better. Not good, certainly not happy, but better than I feel when I'm alone. It seems like I'm starting to come back to life.

One evening, he stays after dinner and we sit together on the couch for a while. When it starts to get dark, Peeta stands up, pulling his hand away from mine. "I guess I should get home," he says.

I don't know what makes tonight different, but at the sound of those words, I feel a sinking feeling in my stomach and I start to panic as he heads toward the door. I think of how all I have to look forward to now are the nightmares I'll have when he's gone. How have I been able to stand being without him for so many nights?

"Wait!" I say, standing up.

Peeta stops in the doorway of the living room. There's so much I want to say, but I can't find the words. He looks at me expectantly, hopefully, waiting to hear what I'm going to ask of him.

I swallow hard, then try to begin, "I -" _love you_, I want to say. Because of course I love him, more than I can believe. I didn't think I had it left in me to love anyone as much as I suddenly realize I love Peeta. But why is this so hard? I admitted to myself that I loved Gale, after his whipping when I almost lost him, but I haven't really thought about my feelings for Peeta in such specific terms until now. If anything I would think, _I need him_. I try to ask myself why this might be…because ultimately I love Peeta more than Gale. And suddenly it dawns on me. I spent so long telling myself I would never love someone in _this_ way, that it was impossible to see what was right in front of me. It was easy to admit with Gale because we were friends, and it didn't scare me so much. I could love Gale and go on being friends with him. But Peeta? We've never really been friends and to admit how much I cared about him would have meant changing one of the fundamental things about myself. But now, I think I'm finally ready for that change.

"You want me to stay?" he asks, his eyes wide.

"I…yes, I really want you to stay." In seconds, he's reached me and his arms are around me. I feel more safe than I have in a long time. "Stay," I repeat. Peeta gently kisses my forehead, knowing that's all I'm ready for at the moment, then he takes my hand in his and we go upstairs.

* * *

><p>Finnick and Annie have returned to District Four, and my mother is there, too, working in a hospital. Gale's gone to Two with Johanna and has some fancy job. Peeta, Haymitch and I are home again. Many of Twelve's former residents return, because it's their home, too. It's where we belong. But of course the place feels immensely lonely, with only a fraction of its former population restored.<p>

We learn to keep busy. Peeta bakes, I hunt. We put together a book, a tribute of sorts, to those we've lost. In it are things that it would be a crime to forget. We put in photos if we have them, but if not Peeta draws pictures. I write things about everyone who we miss: Prim, my father, Peeta's family, Cinna, Madge, Rue. After this, Haymitch joins us, contributing memories of twenty-three years of tributes he was forced to mentor. These additions are much smaller, less detailed, of course.

The arenas are destroyed, and monuments built. I hear all about them in town. The names of every child who died in the Games (and the adults in the Quell) are carved into stones somewhere. All one thousand, seven hundred and forty-three of them

A year or so after our return, Peeta asks Dr. Aurelius if I'm allowed to leave Twelve yet and the answer is yes, though I'm forbidden from bringing a bow with me. Peeta, still far more social than I'll ever be, wants to travel some. He suggests going to see Finnick and Annie, and my mother, in Four. I don't feel ready yet, but I tell him I might like to visit them at some point. The truth is, I do think of them as friends, especially Finnick. And I'd like to see their son, and see the ocean again. Peeta offers to go to Two also, if I want. But I don't think we'll make it there. Destroying the Nut, getting shot, Gale…there are too many memories in Two.

I know I'll never fully recover from the Games or the war, but sometimes I feel happy again. And as long as I have Peeta, I'll be all right. One night, when we're lying in our bed waiting to fall asleep, he asks me what I've refrained from saying for so long.

"You love me now, right?" his voice is surprisingly unsure. I still haven't told him with words, but I can't imagine he doesn't know by this point. He must just need to hear it, I can understand that.

"Of course," I say. I expect him to tell me again that he loves me. I know it's true, and I realize just how much I need to hear it. But Peeta remains silent. Is something wrong? Why won't he just say it? Maybe my own words were insufficient. Somehow, confirming the way I feel about him seems to have opened a floodgate, because I feel like I have it in me to say more. I lift my head and look into his blue eyes, then raise a hand up to cup his cheek and stroke it with my thumb. "I do love you," I say.

Peeta smiles and leans in to kiss me for a few seconds. When he pulls back, he says, "I love you," and starts to stroke my hair. "I'll always love you," he adds, his voice soft and soothing.

And, though I didn't think it was possible, I actually feel glad of something again. I feel so glad that I have Peeta. That I've always had him. To give me the bread, to fight Cato so I could escape from him, and keep me company during that unbearable night on the Cornucopia and during the horrors of the Quarter Quell. To hold me night after night and comfort me when the nightmares strike. I don't know what I would do without him.

We've both lost nearly everything, but at least we've found each other along the way. Life can go on, no matter how bad our losses, it can be good again. And I have Peeta to remind me of that, just like a dandelion at the beginning of the spring.

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** If you're interested, I've written a two-shot companion to this, entitled _Axes and Snares_, which details what Gale and Johanna were doing behind the scenes during this story.

Thanks for reading!


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